


Though she be but little, she is fierce!

by stjarna



Series: Season 4 - Coda Challenge [21]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Bus Kids - Freeform, Coda, F/M, Gen, Post S04E12 "Hot Potato Soup", Some bus kids, Speculation, mild physical violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-03
Updated: 2017-02-03
Packaged: 2018-09-21 18:35:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9561632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stjarna/pseuds/stjarna
Summary: This is what happens when agentcalliope challenges me to incorporatethisinto a coda fic.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [agentcalliope](https://archiveofourown.org/users/agentcalliope/gifts), [lostgirl966](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lostgirl966/gifts).



> Can be read as a sequel to ["This fire will not burn you"](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9561614)
> 
> Was split into a separate fic because it differs quite a bit in tone/style from "This fire will not burn you". This fic is less of a true coda fic and much more speculative (and probably won't happen like this in canon)
> 
> Title: Quote by Shakespeare – A Midsummer Night’s Dream

They’re gathered in Coulson’s office. Coulson is standing behind his desk; Jemma and Fitz in front of it; Daisy next to Mack close to the main screen.

“So, Agnes told us that Radcliffe came to see her a few months ago, wanting to get her involved in a new project,” Coulson explains, gesturing at an image of Agnes on the big screen. It would be impossible to tell her apart from AIDA, were it not for the pronounced scar on her face. “I think we can all safely guess by now what project he was talking about.”

“But sexy ex-assistant wasn’t very keen on seeing her batshit ex-superior again and told him to fuck off in no uncertain terms.”

“I’m fairly certain the words ‘sexy,’ ‘batshit,’ and ‘fuck off’ didn’t show up anywhere in my report, Daisy,” Coulson remarks.

“I read between the lines,” Daisy counters dryly.

“Anyway,” Coulson continues, throwing a brief silencing glance in Daisy’s direction, “Agnes wanted nothing to do with Radcliffe.”

“But she told us that he mentioned wanting to pay a former partner at Morgan Laboratories a visit for the same reason,” Mack chimes in.

“And Morgan Laboratories is part of—get this—Quinn Worldwide,” Coulson concludes, walking around his desk to the center of the room. Using the tablet in his hand, he throws a picture of Ian Quinn on the main screen, as well as various locations of Quinn Worldwide subsidiaries around the globe, zooming in on Morgan Laboratories in L.A.

“Quinn Worldwide?” Jemma exclaims, surprised.

“Fantastic,” Fitz mumbles sarcastically, crossing his arms in front of his chest, leaning Against Coulson's desk.

“Yeah, well,” Daisy chimes in. “Unfortunately, Radcliffe didn’t tell his unrequited love interest the _name_ of this ‘partner.’” She adds air quotes for emphasis. “And it turns out there’s a whole _list_ of people at that lab who have links to Radcliffe.”

“ _So_ ,” Coulson takes back the reign of the briefing. “We’ve asked Dr. Sonja Morgan, CEO of Morgan Laboratories and philanthropist extraordinaire, for assistance in arranging interviews with every single one of them, and she’s shown herself willing to cooperate with us.”

“Although she admittedly has _no_ clue why _exactly_ we want to interview a big chunk of her staff,” Daisy chimes in.

Coulson turns to face the team. “Mack will keep an eye on the base. Fitzsimmons, I’d like both of you in there with me to ask any science-related questions or at least tell me if their answers make sense. Daisy, you’ll be there for… moral support.”

“Is that what we’re calling it now?” Daisy replies, grinning mischievously.

“We’re not entirely sure what we’re dealing with at this point,” Coulson admits. “Little extra man-power… or _woman_ -power, or Inhuman-power can’t hurt.”

* * *

“My assistant, Mrs. Ragner, will be here any moment now with the key to the conference room and the schedule we’ve devised,” Dr. Sonja Morgan informs them.

“We greatly appreciate your cooperation,” Coulson tells her.

“That goes without saying, Agent Coulson,” Morgan says. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to attend to my business.”

“Of course, of course,” Coulson replies, shaking Morgan’s hand. “We’ll wait here for Mrs. Ragner.”

Morgan nods a polite goodbye to the rest of the team before disappearing down the hallway.

“Well, I guess we wait,” Coulson says.

“Nothing like waiting in yet another hallway to make my life more exciting,” Daisy mumbles, leaning against a wall, resting one foot against the smooth surface.

“Yeah, well, what’s a little waiting when you’re trying to—”

Jemma focus shifts from Coulson and Daisy’s banter to Fitz, who has taken a step back unexpectedly. She looks at his face and sees that it has been drained of all color. His eyes are blinking, misty from sudden tears, staring wide-eyed down the corridor.

“He told the truth,” Fitz whispers, barely audibly.

Jemma turns her head to see what Fitz is looking at.

A middle-aged man in a white lab coat walks slowly down the long corridor. His hair is brown and thick and a meticulously trimmed beard frames his face. His eyes are focused on a clipboard in his hands.

She glances back at Fitz. His face is ashen. His hands are trembling, and every micro expression in his body is screaming fight or flight.

Jemma clenches her jaw, turns on her heel, and marches down the corridor.

Fitz’s mind may still be struggling between fight and flight, but she had made her decision a long time ago. She had envisioned what she would say to him if she ever got a chance.

Well, here was her chance.

She stops right in front of him, blocking his path, forcing him to stop and look up. His blue eyes are familiar, and yet she knows what lies beneath them is so vastly different.

She had practiced her speech in her mind countless times over the years. Had repeated it over and over again when Radcliffe’s LMD brought him up the other day.

But now that she’s standing in front of him, Jemma’s beyond words.

“Are you going to move?” the man says coldly in a Scottish accent.

But instead of a reply, Jemma pulls her arm back and feels her hand clench into a fist that propels forward.

She punches him hard, hears his nose break, sees his head fling backwards, his hands frantically reaching up to cover his nose, blood dripping down between his fingers.

“Bloody hell!” escapes his confused lips.

As Jemma stares at her fist, her white knuckles, and a hunched over bastard in a white lab coat in the background, she hears Daisy’s voice call out her name, like a faint echo.

Daisy runs up from behind. “Jemma!” she repeats, eyes wide and confused. “What the hell!” She places one hand on … _his_ back, and Jemma squints her eyes in anger.

“Sir, I am _so_ sorry—” Daisy mutters.

“That’s Fitz’s dad,” Jemma growls through her teeth.

Daisy turns her head. She briefly looks at Jemma, then back at the man in front of her.

“—sorry that you’re a piece of shit good for nothing deadbeat OF A DAD! HOW DARE YOU?” she yells, ramming her knee into the man’s ribcage.

“Agent Simmons! Agent Johnson!” Coulson’s voice booms from behind.

Jemma turns around to look at her superior, while Daisy straightens up, leaving the hunched over man coughing by himself.

“What the hell do you two think you’re doing?” Coulson yells in shock.

“Securing the man we’re looking for,” Fitz mumbles quietly, a few steps behind Coulson, his hands tucked into his pockets.

Coulson turns around with a confused look on his face.

“That’s William Leopold Fitzwilliam, Sir,” Fitz explains, taking his hands out of his pockets and gesturing at the man, whose coughing is slowly subsiding. “My father. Radcliffe… well his LMD said they knew each other, went to school together, commuted on the same train to work in Glasgow. He said he saw him a few months ago. Must have been on purpose. Radcliffe put two and two together and figured out that I was the son of his old buddy.” Fitz shakes his head. “Don’t think for a _second_ that they were just fellow commuters.”

He’s breathing heavily now, shifting his focus from Coulson to his father. Fitz’s eyes are darker, more fiery than Jemma has ever seen. “Because why the _hell_ would you tell a fellow commuter what a complete _failure_ you consider your son to be?” Fitz growls towards the hunched over man.

“Doesn’t make _any_ sense,” Fitz adds, his tone professional and calm. He looks back at Coulson. “They must have been more than that, Sir. Partners or something, like Agnes said.”

“Did Radcliffe give you my message?” Fitzwilliam says suddenly, still resting his hands on his knees, still bent over.

Jemma balls her fists as a new wave of rage fills her body.

Fitz’s head shoots back to his father. “No,” he replies, emotionless. “I have no need for your messages.”

The man straightens up and lets out a single cold laugh. “Oh you worthless piece of—”

“Don’t you dare!” Jemma yells, taking a step forward, ready to bring this man back down a notch.

“Don’t, Jemma. He’s not worth it,” Fitz calls out, and it’s the only thing that holds her back.

“Still letting the women in your life fight your fights for you?” his father scoffs.

“They seem to be doing a marvelous job, if you ask me,” Fitz replies, and the sly grin on his face makes Jemma smile proudly.

“Ha!” Fitzwilliam exclaims. “You haven’t changed, Leopold. Radcliffe tried to tell me you had, that you have talent, that we should get you involved, that you’re smart… brilliant, he said… but you’re still weak, still lagging behind everyone.”

Fitz chuckles. “No, I’m not,” he replies, shrugging his shoulders. “But I’m not gonna bother trying to prove it… it doesn’t matter. I don’t need your approval. I don’t need you.” He pauses, looking over at Coulson, who’s been standing silently and a bit confused, watching the scene unfold.

“But S.H.I.E.L.D. does,” Fitz continues. “And you’ll cooperate or I’ll be sure to let these two power women use you as a punching bag again for as long as they please,” he says, gesturing at Jemma and Daisy with his head. “Or I’ll introduce you to my friend, Mack, and his shotgun axe,” he adds, pulling one corner of his mouth into a one-sided grin.

“Shotgun axe?” his father asks, wrinkling his forehead.

“You’ll see,” Daisy remarks, glaring at Fitzwilliam sideways.

“Umm, yeah,” Coulson chimes in, taking a step forward and raising his hands in a calming gesture. “So I kinda get what’s happening here and I’m all for the abusive father bashing _in theory_ , but we’re S.H.I.E.L.D. and torture isn’t really our thing so… um… maybe we can leave the threats aside for now and take him along?”

“Sure thing, Sir,” Daisy replies, grabbing Fitzwilliam’s arm and dragging him along, squeezing his arm probably a little tighter than necessary. “I’m Quake by the way. You may have heard of me.”

“Take it easy, Daisy,” Coulson suggests, and follows her down the corridor.

Jemma takes a few steps forward until she stands in front of Fitz. “Are you okay?” she asks, full of concern.

He gazes into her eyes and she notices his lips twitching. He begins to chuckle quietly, until his entire body shakes from uncontrollable laughter.

It’s infectious.

“ _Are_ you okay?” Jemma asks again, putting her hand on his arm and trying to control her own laughter.

“You just broke my father’s nose!” Fitz exclaims, holding his stomach, trying to catch his breath.

“I suppose I did,” Jemma says, chuckling quietly.

He beams at her. “You’re … you’re two heads shorter than him and you walked over to him and punched him in his bloody face.”

“Well. It wasn’t bloody until I punched it,” she tries to joke.

“Jemma,” he says with a smile, shaking his head slightly. It’s nothing but her name, and yet she hears so much more than that.

“I… I don’t know what happened,” Jemma shrugs. “I had a whole speech prepared. I’ve had it prepared ever since you told me about him at the Academy. I was going to tell him that he’s a useless piece of scum who doesn’t deserve to call himself your father, who doesn’t deserve _you_. That he has no idea what a gift to the world you are. How incredibly smart you are, and kind, and talented, and… I had it all prepared and then I saw him and—” 

“All those words turned into a small—” Fitz grabs her hand and places a gentle kiss onto her knuckles that are beginning to show signs of bruising, “—but very mighty fist instead.”

“Yes,” Jemma concurs.

He cups her face and kisses her. “Thank you. That’s a visual I’ll never forget.”

She chuckles, reaching for his cheek, letting her fingers glide over his stubble. “I loved how you handled him much better,” she tells him. “What you _said_ to him. I’m so proud of you, Fitz.”

He smiles at her gratefully. Then lifts his hands slightly, turning them back and forth. “Well, can’t risk injuring these now, can I? What with my livelihood at stake and all that?” he jokes.

Then he sighs. “Truth is, I’ve dreamed of punching him and I’ve dreamed of telling him off. But when I saw him, I froze… _completely_ froze and I didn’t snap out of it until I heard him yell ‘Bloody hell!’ holding his nose.”

He lets out a quiet laugh. “What just happened doesn’t come close to _any_ of the scenarios I’ve envisioned … but I don’t care. And that’s—” He shrugs. “That feels _so_ good. Because what he said didn’t affect me. _He_ doesn’t affect me. Not anymore.”

He places his hands on her shoulders, squeezing them gently. “And I’m not sure I could have gotten to that point if it weren’t for you.” He smiles at her, and it warms every cell in Jemma’s body. “Your faith in me, your trust in me, your confidence in me, what you told me the other day; the other _night_. _You_ helped me break that loop, Jemma.”

She smiles at him warmly. “All I tried… all I wanted was for you to see yourself through my eyes, through _everyone’s_ eyes, everyone who loves you. But getting out of that loop, that was _you_ , Fitz! I won’t take credit for that.”

He moves his hands to her neck, pulling her closer, resting his forehead against hers. “You gave me a nudge. And I needed that,” he whispers against her lips.

His blue eyes are so close, they blur in front of her, but it’s all she sees, all she wants to see. “I’ll nudge you anytime you need it,” she replies, her words no louder than a breath.

He snickers briefly. “I love when you talk dirty to me,” he says, grinning suggestively.

She laughs out loud, but the sound is drowned out by his mouth capturing hers, his lips softly brushing against hers, his tongue slowly gliding over her upper lip, requesting entry.

Her arms wrap around him, pulling him closer as she intensifies their kiss.

“Umm, guys,” Daisy’s voice pulls them back into reality, both turning their heads to look at their friend, standing by the door at the end of the corridor, gesturing behind herself. “Sorry to break the moment, but we’re kinda waiting for you!”

They smile at each other and Fitz leans down to place another gentle kiss to Jemma’s lips. “Thank you,” he whispers one more time before grabbing her hand and walking towards Daisy.

He stops briefly and places his free hand on Daisy’s shoulder, his mouth opening slightly, ready to speak. But Daisy simply nods. “Anytime,” she whispers, before gesturing out the door she’s holding open.

 


End file.
